


Tiger's Eye

by UniversalStranger



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animal Transformation, Multi, Transformation, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 20:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18038921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalStranger/pseuds/UniversalStranger
Summary: Courtesy of his associate Francis, Arthur, an animal soul wielder, finds himself in the crowded streets of New York, much to his dismay. Though the limited time in the large country was given strictly for work reasons, he quickly finds himself invested in the trip a bit more than he was even willing.





	Tiger's Eye

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me. They are the property of Hidekaz Himaruya.

Two men could be seen sitting under a shadow, the plastic roof over their heads peaking out of a small shop's front in a colorful palette and painting the sunshine falling through it in pale, soft colors over the sidewalk as well as passersby feet, both with dress jackets and an aura around them business casual. Though being the only people taking up the few hard seats outside in the fresh air and the scorching July sun it wasn't the only reason they had most eyes trailed onto them and their muted dialogue.

"I still can't believe you brought me here," A low grumble of words escaped one of the two in a clear British accent, his posture rigidly straight even as he tried to adjust his seating in order to escape the lone beam of sunlight that kept desperately clinging onto the idea of falling over his pale skin. Green eyes glinted in annoyance yet their gaze remain firmly latched onto the faded yellow menu in hand. "Of all the places you just had to go and pick a theme park of a country - the bloody colonies."

" _Ce n'est pas la mer à boire, mon petit chaton_ ," The other replied in a smooth French accent with a small smile already present on his lips as he took a second to look through the drink list before flicking the menu shut and leaning back against the chair, lazily running a hand through his well looked after shoulder length locks. Blue eyes glittered in the day's light as they wandered through the busy streets before them. "And you have to agree, Arthur, _Amérique_ has its perks. It's a lovely place to be when you need an escape of any sorts."

The only reply the Frenchman received was a snort of what could have been of semi-agreement or a mock of the thought whatsoever. Averting his gaze away from the large cars rolling through, the Parisian was about to ask the other to specify, but his thoughts shifted as he couldn't help but catch his associate's left gloved hand casually massaging the area over his chest before brushing it off as trying to fix the way his dress shirt had been laying.

Before the conversation could continue or a new one could be forced upon they were interrupted by a short, red faced waitress hurriedly striding their way with loud, attention grabbing steps. There was a friendly smile sporting on her lips, but the teen seemed much too nervous for it to actually seem natural.

"Hey there, hope I'm not interrupting anything and sorry for the delay, bit of a busy day," Pulling out a small notebook from the front pocket of her black apron situated over her proudly arched out bust and with a pen already in hand the young waitress tries another shot at showing off her straight whites. "Now, can I take your order?"

The Parisian grinned at the gesture, blue eyes not missing the way the busty brunette leaned in when she saw a fitting chance to after his casual look-over her. With a flattering smile and a few winks his way the Frenchman got the message loud and clear.

"Oh I'm sure you can, love, such a simple act shouldn't be too hard to perform even for a child, but the question is _may_ you take my order?" With his gaze still lowered onto the menu the Brit steadily drew out each word in a coldly polite tone that had an obvious underlying malice to match the slow narrowing of his cat like eyes.

There was beat of silence as the girl seemed a bit dumbstruck at the sudden foul mood coming from the other man. The Parisian felt his lips twitch upwards even higher when watching the waitress's already blushing skin turn blotchy red.

"Er... May I?"

"You may." With a tad bit of more harshness in the curt reply the Brit finally tore his eyes away from the desperately eye catching colored letters on the glossy paper and averted his frosty gaze over to the waitress. The Frenchman watched in silent amusement how the girl slowly reared back from the look she was receiving and slouched ever so slightly, a more forced expression slowly molding her round features as embarrassment continued to eat off her skin raw. "A cup of black tea would be lovely. No sugar, thank you."

And just like that the moody British man ended the conversation by dismissively looking away towards the buzzing with life streets, a hand covered in black leather running over his chest once more before arms cross over the area to secure the completely uninterested position.

"And a glass of wine for me, _ma chérie_." Feeling the waitress's eyes shift towards him the Parisian lets out a breathy laugh before giving an apologetic look to which the teen does not respond. " _Merci beaucoup_."

Tightening her hold on the small notebook and continuing to force a smile, she dips her rosy hand in and grabs the menus off the table before scurrying along without another word.

"Your people skills never fail to amaze me, do you know that, Arthur?" With a low chuckle the Frenchman lazily drew out while spreading his legs in a bit of a more comfortable position, watching the young waitress walk back into the shop and give an angry bark of an order to a man behind the cashier, who just looked stunned beyond repair by the sudden aggression coming his way. The girl disappeared behind closed doors and having nothing else to observe blue eyes strayed right back in Arthur's direction just in time to catch the man pull the corners of his lips lower than they already were, successfully deepening the already apparent frown.

"Yes, well that seems like one of your many problems rather than mine." Narrowed green eyes tore away from the scenery, before looking over his associate with clear disinterest. With a blink of long eyelashes the picture was taken and a short moment of silence arose between the two men as they both just stared absentmindedly at each other with no other intentions than to hold the gaze, even if it always came out as a calming and reassuring gesture on both parts.

With the second passed and the black and white shot saved to memory green eyes lit up with anger, thick eyebrows a tone darker than his actual tow blond hair pushing together in a forced frenzy, as the Brit tried to escape the rays of sunlight coming his way yet again. "Bollocks! This blasted weather will be the death of me! _Francis, what the hell were you thinking?!_ "

"You're so prickly today, _mon Dieu_ , Arthur." Francis exclaimed yet there was no actual frustration in the man's smooth voice, only lingering amusement. Feeling the light starting to reach his own eyes too the French man slid his sunglasses on and briefly wondered why the other didn't do the same. "If I recall clearly, and feel free to correct me if you see fit, I did not hit you upside the head with an expensive bottle of French wine and smuggled your _petit derrière_ inside this country. You saw those tickets weeks before our flight. You were aware where we were heading."

There was a long moment of diplomatic silence before a deep sigh escaped Arthur and the Brit slightly loosened in his chair, enough to ease the strain off his shoulders, but not enough to lose the proper posture he so stubbornly clung onto despite his body's protests. Francis watched him bring a hand over his chest again and rub a palm over it in soothing manner.

"Yes, yes, I know. You're right. I'm sorry... It's just been a hard couple of days for me." Arthur finally admitted, tiredness subtly making its appearance on the man's sharp features as he closed his eyes for a brief second and leaned back against the chair, making it creak quietly at the sudden unexpected pressure.

"Is something bothering you, _mon chéri_?"

"I- Well... Not me specifically, but..." The Brit scrunched his nose and raised a hand towards it, but mid-action he seemed to decide against whatever he had intended to do and just slipped it back into his crossed arms, his voice lowered into more hushed murmur as he continued. "... _It's_ been restless for some reason. I feel like it's just going to jump out at any given moment, without so much of a warning or a sign." Snapping his eyes open to reveal gleaming emeralds with a tint of panic in them Arthur gave an irritated look at nothing in particular. "And it's putting me on edge."

"Is it because of the change of scenery?" The Parisian wondered out loud, stroking his slightly stubbly jaw. There was no shock evident in his expression, merely thoughtfulness; he had already connected the dots. "We've never been out of Europe's reach before, maybe it's just not used to flying such long distances. It's an unfamiliar territory and quite different from our own."

"Maybe..." The Brit sighed, seemingly not convinced, but not in the mood to push the conversation further than that he looked up into the sky with a slight smile that made Francis's grin stretch a bit wider. "Or maybe it dislikes this bloody country as much as I do."

...

"Fried cheesecake? Fried biscuits and gravy? How are they still alive?" Safely out of the coffeehouse and only waiting to have a few steps of a distance between them and the locals, Arthur questions with a grimace, shielding his flickering eyes from the sun's unwavering gaze with a gloved hand.

"Well you certainly can't be the one to judge, Mr. _cuisine britannique_." Francis reminds before pushing his sunglasses higher over the bridge of his nose as the pair slowly trotted down the street, brushing through unsurprising amounts of people even in the torrid heat of the afternoon, while making their way towards Central Park. "Last time I had the honors of tasting your traditional British dishes, that you had cooked and forcibly placed upon me to eat, might I add, I had to nurse my aching stomach back to health for about a week or so."

"My country's dishes are not that bad!" Came the shorter male's immediate reply, voice slightly risen as he pushed his hands into his pant's pockets for the second time, searching for his phone. Upon finding it he pulled the device out, but postponed using it to continue glaring at the smirking man besides him. "They may not really stand out as some of the best in the way of culinary sophistication, but they're _not that bad_!"

" _Oh oui, bien sûr_ , I have mistaken your horrible cooking skills for your country's. Those fish and chips, or the other one - bangers and mash, where they? - are absolutely fine in terms of taste. It is just you had burned them to an absolute crisp, making me unable to actually taste them, only bitter charcoal, _non_?"

"Okay, listen here, you frog-"

The Frenchman suddenly stops and Arthur unconsciously does so too, mouth open, but the sentence cut short as he watched Francis place his hands over his body, patting it a couple of times as if in search of something. The passing people threw dirty glares at the two and muttered curses while circling around them, but Arthur neither cared nor acknowledged them, keeping his eyes strictly on Francis.

"What's wrong?" The Brit's voice did a one-eighty and the sudden seriousness in his associate's tone forced Francis to snap his head in Arthur's direction and curve a sheepish smile over his lips while pushing both men to the side and out of the way before the busy New Yorkers did more than just grumble and glare. Bringing a hand to run through his stubbly jaw Francis pondered on the idea for a second, eyes looking over the crowds of people moving behind the Brit, before pushing the words forward.

"I think I left my phone back at the café."

Arthur visibly relaxed, the tension he hadn't noticed locking his muscles before now loosened and he let out an irritated sigh, murmuring a few curse words about the French under his breath as he wondered how the Frenchman managed to do such an absentminded thing when he is always seen glued to his phone, practically married to the device. He checked the time on his phone before running one black leathered hand over his face while he waved with the other in the direction they came from.

"Well don't just stand there, get on with it. We haven't got all day. Go and retrieve your phone."

" _Merci_ , I promise I will not take long!"

With his associate on his way back and Arthur now left alone to kill about ten to fifteen minutes of free time, the Brit continued their previous destination and entered the park. Strolling around for a bit, intending to find the perfect place to sit back and brood under some sort of shade, Arthur quickly found his temper flaring at the low number of empty bench seats escaping the sun's gaze. Feeling heat starting to swell up in his chest again, he cursed himself for being so easily riled up and tried to distract himself by brushing a hand over his chest and sending Francis a reminder not to forget his head at the coffee shop.

The Brit made a turn for the less crowded part of the park with barely any people there to safely walk and text, but just as he pressed the button 'send' he noticed someone strolling very closely besides him, the smell of smoke filling his nose as their shoulders brushed at the close proximity. In the moment it took for Arthur to look up there was a hand already grabbing his phone and the blur of a person besides him was bolting at full speed ahead.

Arthur had only a split second to grasp what just happened until his instincts kicked in and, before he knew it, he was already chasing the man through the park. In the back of his mind he registered his chest swelling with heat at an alarming rate, which should have forced the Brit to immediately stop and try to calm himself, but there was a large dose of adrenaline already pumping through his bloodstream and it clouded his mind from all rationalities, leaving only rage to brew.

With the man in his sights and locked on Arthur felt a burst of energy in the form of pooling heat flowing to his legs, letting him push his body further so that he was only a step behind the thief in a few seconds. Being this close to the man Arthur could smell the smoke coming off his body again, sweat and fear suddenly apparent too, making Arthur unconsciously all the more willing to catch.

With Arthur's eyes seemingly clearer and every sense heightened, it took little effort to grab onto the man and tackle him to the ground. Having more strength in his grip than usual it doesn't dawn on Arthur how his right, ungloved, hand dug nails into the other man's skin, all of his instincts yelling at him to open his jaws and make the kill, how it would take only ninety seconds by a bite to that nape of the neck or spine, just clamping down on the prey's windpipe, cutting off the air supply until the prey stops breathing. Arthur feels his whole body hum in agreement, chest heaving and pulsing with bursting heat that flowed continuously through his limbs, feeling enraged by the breach of territory.

With his gums aching Arthur opened his mouth, eyes locked on the rapidly beating artery sticking out of the man's rosy and glittering from sweat skin, the smell of suffocating fear arousing him further for blood as anger continued to brainwash him mindless. Just as he was about to lean in, a startled cry snapped his attention away from the neck and he looked up at the struggling thief underneath him, juvenile brown eyes wide with dread and mouth opened letting out shouts and pleas to stop.

Broken out of his clouded faze Arthur quickly got off the shaking teenager on the ground, bringing a hand over his face as he forced himself to take a few steps back and bark out a command.

"Go! Come on, leave!" The sharp words seemed to help the teen scramble to stand up, but when Arthur continued to smell the terrified scent of his presence, he accidentally let out a small warning growl, but it was low enough to be considered as a groan of anger. "Get out of my sigh before I actually kill you!"

When he finally heard the gasping young man leave running Arthur turned around and quickly stepped into a secluded place behind some trees and bushes. Leaning against a tree bark he tore open the few buttons of his dress shirt's upper half and grabbed the harshly glowing talisman hanging over his neck by a silver chain as he tried to calm down, his breathing coming out in erratic puffs of warm air as his whole body shook in defiance.

_It's important that you try to calm yourself down. Monitor your breathing and look to take long, deep breaths to slow your heart rate and blood pressure down. Sit down and try to focus on what's happening as well. It should help keeping it at bay._

A familiar face entered the struggling to stand Brit's mind as words flooded into his brain making Arthur slide down the tree and continue to force himself to relax, letting the adrenaline rush wear off while he continued to rub soothing circles with his thumb over the beaming green stone. It seemed to be working for a few moments, the man felt a creeping ease on his muscles and he was just about to let out a thankful sigh before his body completely froze, rejected the idea whatsoever and Arthur suddenly felt a jolt of heat hit his insides, heart burning and eyes watering.

" _For the love of God, not now, not here..._ " He grounded out in a harsh tone, but he knew it was too late when he felt the air being knocked out of him and his body slumping to the side, completely immobile. With one last choked 'damn it' Arthur could do nothing more than watch the fiercely glowing talisman escape his hand as golden light started seeping out of his body along with the heat to form a shape in front of him.

Shining dust formed into soft looking fur of a large four legged animal, covering its thick neck, broad shoulder and massive front legs in a bold pattern. In the light of day and only a few glimpses of patchy darkness falling over it from the surrounding trees, the tiger's conspicuous stripes and brilliant gold coat beaconed.

With ears turn to the back, making the singular white dot on each ear evident, and mouth pulled back with a slight glint of bared teeth, it looked like it was biting back a snarl, seemingly still quite aggravated by the earlier experienced events.

The powerful, burly animal turned Arthur's way, a set of gleaming yellow eyes landing on the motionless man heavily breathing on his side and successfully softening the tiger's angered state. With a few slow, confident strides the tiger was in front of him and bringing its face into the crook of Arthur's neck, took a few sniffs before chuffing a snort in greeting and turned to lick the Brit's face. Feeling unconsciously soothed by the animal's closeness Arthur gladly accepted the heat it provided and not being able to do anything more stared at the tiger through half lidded eyes while huffing out air, still having to wait for a bit to regain his strength enough so he could actually move or talk even.

The large cat chuffed again as a mother would comforting her cub, letting its rough tongue run over Arthur's choppy side of hair affectionately till it deemed it was fit enough and made a move to backtrack. Turning its snout towards the sky the tiger grimaced as it took a few sniffs before a sort of gleam fell over its conspicuous eyes and with one last glance at Arthur it let out a growl, a low and threatening sound from its throat, successfully startling the limp man into widening his eyes at the sudden noise.

"A... Ae... l...!" The Brit attempted to call out, throat aching at the put in force, but with a flick of its tail the big cat fled the scene leaving Arthur staring at the disappearing animal with terror creeping up his bones.

He tried getting up and running after it, but his muscles were still locked in relaxation mode and completely unavailable, the only movement he subconsciously continued to do was shiver to regain the lost heat. It took a few minutes before Arthur gave up on forcing himself to move, he knew his struggles were to no avail. He swore internally and thought up of another string of curses when he heard someone passing by and abruptly stopping, the popping of one's knees echoed as the person bent down to pick up his discarded phone off the path walk.

"H-hey, um, excuse me, sir?" Arthur heard a concerned, feminine voice behind him speaking close to his head, but not having enough energy to do anything more than breathe in short angry huffs he didn't look over to the woman or answered. "Sir, did you drop this?"

It took a couple of seconds before the lady asked again, hesitantly getting in front of the lying Brit. Large light eyes stared back at Arthur shyly with a dust of red over the tan cheekbones, before the long face molded into a shocked expression and the woman squeaked lowering onto her knees, successfully making them pop again.

" _Oh my God!_ Sir, are you alright?!" The woman questioned frantically and when Arthur continued to stay silent and only slowly blink at her she threw her hands over the man's arm, shaking it lightly. "Can you hear me, sir?!"

'Yes I can bloody hear you, stop shouting!' Arthur wanted nothing more than to pry the woman's hands off of him and ask her to kindly go away, but only managed to furrow his eyebrows angrily and let out a soft, barely audible whisper of a 'yes'.

"O-okay, okay, that's great! You can talk! . . . But, oh dear God, you're so pale! Tell me what-" Her sentence was cut short, for what Arthur was grateful immensely, by his phone vibrating and calling out for attention. The woman jumped startled and looked down at the forgotten devise on her lap with an open mouth before sending a questioning stare back at the Brit. "It's... your phone, right?"

Arthur answered with another 'yes', this time noticeably firmer, and even tried to bobble his head a bit. As he successfully completed the small action the man closed his eyes and almost smiled seeing himself slowly starting to be able to function again. 'It won't take long then'.

"It says 'Francis' is calling. Should... I pick it up?"

Before Arthur could humor the lady with another 'yes', his eyes snapped open at the sound of a another voice speaking up behind him in a very familiar and thickly accented tongue. The woman seemed to have noticed the Frenchman first as she was already gapping with an open mouth upwards at him over Arthur's head. The Brit rolled his eyes at the display.

"That won't be necessary, _ma chérie_. I've got him." Arthur felt Francis' warm hand dip over his shoulders and pull his body into a sitting position against the tree trunk. Once upright the Brit breathed out easier, only now noticing how uncomfortably he had been lying. "I thank you for taking care of my friend up until now, you are truly a lovely person inside and out for showing such concern for others."

"O-oh, it's nothing, really! Anyone would have done the same!"

Francis lowered into a crouching position and allowed himself to keep his hand over Arthur's shoulder while successfully charming the woman who also continued to absentmindedly cling onto Arthur's arm. The whole position made the Brit shift his head away from them in annoyance, still not having enough energy to push either off of him.

Arthur contemplated whenever to scream or to try and straddle his associate, his arm admittedly twitching to life at the thought, when his thoughts were caught by a roar echoing through the park and his head snapped in its direction.

"Fra-a... s... is!" The urgency in Arthur's voice rang loud and clear as he even clenched his fists in desperation.

The Frenchman seemed to have heard the familiar roar too as he broke whatever conversation he had been having and quickly excused both of them, asking for the lady to leave while he helped the Brit to stand.

"Which way?" Francis asked as soon as the woman was out of earshot and Arthur was on his two wobbly legs with a hand gripping intensely on the Frenchman's lean arm to help balance himself. If Francis felt the sting of his fingers' digging force, he didn't mention it.

"R-ri... righ..." The Brit felt his body start to finally give in to his commands as he noticed himself having a stronger grip on standing and moving, it was just that his voice box seems to not fit the category of 'obedient' and continued to play stubborn.

Francis nodded, finishing up typing something on his phone quickly before shoving it into his pocket, and with Arthur navigating the direction, though limping heavily as he moved, they were going in a fairly quick pace through the park, searching for formed crowds or any sign of the loose tiger. To immense Arthur's surprise neither came up.

'Why is it so hard to find a four foot tall cat? Surely someone has noticed a wild tiger roaming around in the park and found it at least a little bit odd.' The Brit badly wanted to voice out his irritation, but knew it would take far more patience to stutter out the words than Arthur had at the moment, so instead he let out a frustrated huff and continued to scan the area. That was when his eyes landed on a particular scene a bit further from him.

A tall blond man, broad in the shoulders and tan over the skin, stud against a massive tree with large branches striking out at wide angles, a long-lived oak Arthur for some reason had noted in mids of everything, with his uncovered bulky arms out, not moving as he stared through a pair of silver rimmed glasses at the large big cat half circling him and letting out a low, deep throated roar at short intervals repetitively. Though it wasn't that loud, it was a distinctive call that Arthur hadn't ever heard in his life before and something in the back of his mind kept pocking at him about it, but at the given moment the Brit couldn't distinguish such crucial facts or dare dwell longer on them. He dismissed the information for later with little hope of remembering, but with hope nonetheless.

At the sudden stop Francis was about to shoot a remark towards Arthur's will power when he noticed the tiger's golden orange coat in his line of sight. He let out a relieved breath that quickly turned into a fit of chuckles that the Frenchman had to cover with his hand as he took in the scene. He sent a teasing look to the stony Brit's besides him way.

"Looks like we found your _chaton_ , Arthur... And it caught itself some very nice looking prey, _oh my_..."

Not responding to the Frenchman's comment and having a steadier step in his stride Arthur lets go of Francis and makes a dash for the man cornered against a tree by a whining tiger.

"A-Al...!"

Both the tiger and the man responded to the call, snapping their heads in the direction of the voice, but Arthur only had eyes for the big cat that seemed to be both annoyed and happy to see the Brit stomping its way, neither noticing that the person backed up against the tree had opened his mouth to speak, but only continued to stare at the nearing man with no uttered words only wide eyes.

"Co-om... come he-... e!" Arthur tried to seem as intimidating as possible as he forced the command out of his lips, staring at the reluctant tiger with narrowed eyes and a displeased scowl.

The tiger let out a small whine like noise and flickered its tail a few times as it smartly understood and knew what was waiting for him if he came willingly to Arthur's side so instead it turned towards the still man it had cornered and neared him while emitting a gentler puffing sound, which the Brit knew the cat usually give out during friendly approaches. It calmed some part of Arthur's mind knowing it was all still family friendly, but the annoyance of the disobedient animal outweighed the small amount of relief.

The big cat pulled its face in a grimace as it took a few large whiffs of the man's scent before nudging its head over his covered stomach, rubbing its head in a similar way domestic cats would rub up against humans. The clear show of affection confused the Brit and postponed his quest to get the tiger by his side again as he just stared at the act with a weird expression, not completely knowing how to respond to it. His tiger was a solitary creature much like himself so it finding a person, besides the Brit, with whom he actually had a spark of interest to communicate with completely baffled Arthur. This sort of thing had only happened once before, but the tiger had been a baby at the time much like himself.

For a second Arthur pondered on the thought and with a piqued interest looked up at the guy, but found that the man had already been staring at him with a pair of wide enchantingly blue eyes behind sleek glasses. The person had his looks even with the child like face he had adopted. From the smooth, slightly flushed sun-kissed skin to the golden crown of blond locks upon his head, with some fringe pushed to the side over his forehead in a reckless manner, and accompanied with an attentively shaved and not too sharply shaped, but enough to impress jaw, was enough to form a handsome young man's look.

Though it wasn't the looks that persuaded Arthur to stare longer, in his short twenty three years on the earth the man had been in a lots of places around the world and seen many different kinds of faces so he knew how true, absolutely breathtaking beauty looked like, and though indeed handsome, the man did not have such exceptional traits. It had been the eyes of the individual that stole the Brit's attention. In contrast to the bronze skin his pale, strikingly blue eyes seemed to just completely stand out in a captivating manner.

'Such honest and expressive eyes...' Arthur couldn't help but think while admiring the man.

They held their locked gazes for a moment, neither speaking up nor looking away. Then the young man twitched his head to the side with a slightly parted mouth as in in question. It broke Arthur's closer examination of the man and his green eyes fell on the practically purring big cat near the guy's stomach.

"A-Al-" Arthur tried again, but it seemed as though his throat had completely clogged up. It was noticeably harder to speak up again so the Brit cleared his throat in attempt to smooth out his voice. "Al-l... ion! A- _Albion!_ "

When he finally successfully gritted out the name of the animal its head snapped at the call and with one last look at its captive it dejectedly dragged itself away from the man and took a stance besides Arthur's legs, clearly dissatisfied, but still seemingly content with the two men in sight. Arthur's hand instantly went for the tiger's head, his gloved fingers running through the soft fur as he struggled to crouch down and, finally having the tiger near again, let out a relieved sigh he hadn't noticed he was holding up until now.

Placing his forehead over the animal's striped one, Arthur lets his hands wander all over the tiger's glimmering coat covering its thick neck as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

'Why must you always test my patience, love?' Arthur thinks, but only managed to open his eyes and accept the nuzzle coming his way with a small smile.

"I-er-... I mean, _um_ , excuse me, but what-" Arthur noticed the young man trying to formulate a question making the Brit's gaze flicker in his direction. He watched his face as he attempted to talk, apparently still quite surprised, but after each second ticked by confusion quickly molded his features into another expression, light eyebrows furrowing slowly between his curiously narrowed eyes. Before Arthur could supply any sort of answer he heard Francis speaking up behind him and successfully cutting off the man's half constructed question short.

"Our ride is here, Arthur, we must get going _dès que_ possible! Believe it or not there is a number on how many people I can actually persuade to not call animal control! "

Looking up Arthur found his associate already by his side and holding out a hand for him while with another he kept a phone glued to his ear. Francis grinned when he saw that he had gained everyone's attention except for the tiger's, whose eyes were now strictly on the young glasses wearing man who had still yet to move.

"A-alright..." Ignoring the hand the Brit stud up, a bit shakily, and only now noticed the little crowd of people scattered around them, mostly adults, but there were a few kids standing around, all eyes wide and staring, some with amazement and joy, while some with fear and disapproval. A frown pulled at his lips instantly at the scene.

"Do not worry, _mon cher ami_ , I managed to talk them out of anything drastic, many just wanted to pat your little _chaton_ on its furry orange head. And some just wanted my number." The Frenchman's voice was laced with amusement which the Brit was not in the mood for.

Turning away from everyone Arthur took the talisman dangling over his bare chest in a strong grip which grabbed the tiger's attention, its ears turning in the Brit's direction signaling him that it was aware of the action.

"Stay... b-by my... side, Albion, a-... a-and behave." Even if not loud the command was very much evident and the tiger dipped its head a fraction lower in agreement, though still looking away towards the tree. Albion's utter fascination for the stranger was starting to concern Arthur.

With one last glance at the man, who now had his hands down and seemed to have given up on the idea of trying to question the situation, Arthur murmured a choppy version of a 'I'm sorry for the trouble' and turned to leave with Francis not too far behind him, reporting their soon to be arrival to the person on the other line. Even if Arthur had no interest in the stranger personally and would have been even glad to have never seen him again, his mind, despite everything, lingered on the slightly hurt expression that he had last seen on the young man's face.

...

The dark tea was hot on Arthur's tongue, but it felt nice in the night's cool breeze as he sat on a chair by a completely wide open window in the living room of his moderate apartment situated on the fifteenth floor. The view wasn't that spectacular, it did not show any piece of the moon or even hints of the clear dark skies that were supposed to calmly rule tonight, the Brit was only left with large blocky buildings with drawn curtains, some fractions of skyscrapers and a wide main road that had a seemingly never-ending wave of cars rolling through it which honked at random moments. With nothing better to stare at his green gaze was left to linger over the few passing people on the streets, watch their muted discussions over the loud traffic and wonder where they were heading at such late hours while simultaneously trying to stop his thoughts from creeping in a whole other direction. He had been doing that a lot today, he noticed.

Irritated, the Brit blew out a silent breath of air over the steaming cup. The ceaseless sounds of big cities never did help him sleep at night.

There was a sound of a door clicking open somewhere behind him before feet were slowly making their way towards him, but Arthur made no effort to turn around.

"Still can't sleep?"

"Is the sun still burning?"

A brief chuckle echoed in the airy room as Francis sat down on the hard gray sofa that belonged to the apartment and watched the sarcastic man, sitting with an almost uncomfortable looking proper posture, switch his crossed legs and bring the white teacup near his lips again. Francis stares at Arthur for a long moment, just watching him sip tea, and Arthur doesn't indulge him in any sort of conversation, already seemingly lost in thought. After one last quick glance at his phone, the Frenchman slowly leans back against the stiff cushions and props an arm on the armrest to place his cheek against his hand before opening his mouth again.

"What has you bothered, Arthur? I'm starting to believe it has more to do with you rather than the animal inside of you." The never disappearing trace of amusement in Francis' voice was as evident as ever and it didn't help with Arthur's irritation, the suggestive tone pouring gasoline onto a fire that had been sparked a while ago and was just itching to burn something down.

Arthur felt a familiar trace of heat start to pool in his chest, the uncomfortable feeling irking his insides and leaving him restless in his chair. He clenched his jaw in annoyance as he switched his legs again.

"That is completely absurd. If you came out here just to talk this rubbish then you might as well turn around and leave."

The cool tone in Arthur's words forced the other's smile to falter for a short second before reappearing, which Arthur didn't pick up as he continued to glare down the street.

"You've been like this the moment we stepped out of the plane, _ma chérie_ : irritated, moody and extremely jumpy. You snap at the first thing that even remotely upsets you and while I may find it amusing, I can see that the stress is talking a toll on you. You haven't really slept these past two days and the little situation with Albion in the park today. . . _You let it loose_. It has been a long time since I've seen that gorgeous creature and though it may have not hurt anyone, but the fact still stands that you weren't even remotely in control of it." There was a generous pause which let the roaring streets fill up the silence between the two men as Francis unconsciously followed the slim fingers tracing the tea cup, watching how they slid up and down the warm glass in what seemed like a soothing manner. Glancing back at Arthur's face again Francis takes note of how pale and drain the other looked even in the dim lighting, light hair disheveled and pushed to the side to cower away from a pair of angrily furrowed brows, no doubt of stress related, as his fair completion successfully brought out the dark circles under the dangerously narrowed eyes, making the unflattering purple-ish color stand out more so in the overall view. The sight made the Frenchman purse his lips behind his fingers. "If you really feel unfit to stay in this country we might as well disband the search and take up another location-"

" _No_. End of discussion." The curtness in Arthur tone shut down any and all suggestions so the blue eyed man just nodded helplessly and looked away.

He knew he caught the other's attention by the action, the feeling of eyes on him always gave Francis a distinctive sense of alert, but ignoring his associate's gaze he continues to stare at the modern condo of his choosing, the simplistic and plain design of minimal furniture looking clean and new. The colors were tastefully mellow, not too bright or flashy and nice on the eyes as the majority of the apartment wore light wooden floors and soft gray tones. It was nor too much, nor too little, a satisfying in between. . . And yet the more he looked at it the more lifeless it got.

' _What an eyesore_ ', with a sigh Francis abruptly stands up and pats himself over the legs a couple of times as if to get the imaginary dust off of him before straightening out and giving Arthur his signature smile to which the smaller man respond by frowning.

Feeling a slight pang of guilt at how he flat out rejected the other's help in a rude, though completely like him, manner, blowing out a heavy sigh Arthur tries to force a comforting smile to ease the situation.

"No, really, Francis. I am perfectly fine. It's just a bit of over longed jet-lag, it will go away eventually. I can't let every stupid little thing get in the way of work-"

"It's okay, you don't have to make excuses, I get it." Taking the cup out of Arthur's hand Francis gently places it on the glass coffee table besides them before taking a stance to cage the other's crossed legs in between his own. Francis leans in, placing a hand over the chair's back to steady himself as he takes the sitting blonde's hand in his and brings it towards his lips to slowly place a lingering kiss over the pale skin. " _I get it_."

Their eyes connected and Francis left his lips to hover over the bumps of Arthur's knuckles as his grin widened, "Don't say anything, just let me help you take your mind off of things."

The Brit only stares blankly at the Frenchman's actions, seemingly unfazed, yet not completely unwilling. The same image that had been haunting Arthur for the past few days now flashed through his mind and feeling absolutely fed up with those confused eyes accompanied by a hurt frown, Arthur lets the corners of his lips twitch upwards at the offered distraction. Though feeling the bubbling heat inside his chest grow and intensify as if in disapproval he still lets himself be taken out of the uncomfortable chair and led out of the room into the bedroom.

xxx

Translations:

 _Ce n'est pas la mer à boire, mon petit chaton_ = it's not the end of the world, my small kitten

 _Amérique_ = America

 _ma chérie_ = my sweetheart

 _Merci beaucoup_ = thank you very much

 _mon Dieu_ = my God

 _petit derrière_ = small behind

 _mon chéri_ = my dear

 _cuisine britannique_ = British cuisine

 _Oh oui bien sûr_ = Oh yes, of course

 _non_ = no

 _Chaton_ = kitten

 _dès que possible_ = as soon as possible

**Author's Note:**

> Who knows? I don't even know. 
> 
> Had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, but even I don't really know how I'm going to execute this or find the inspiration to continue. Welpsies, we'll see.
> 
> Hope you liked it, whoever is reading this.


End file.
